


The First Flight Anywhere

by Nevraukowen



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, But it's still a funny story, Elijah has child star syndrome, M/M, Orlando needs a hug, Romantic Comedy, Viggo needs new friends, Why yes this plot does seem familiar, everyone needs to see a therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevraukowen/pseuds/Nevraukowen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In three days it’s all fallen apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and written years ago before I got a AO3 account.
> 
> Also, I own nothing. Not even the plot. lol. I have no  
> affiliation with any of the actors represented within. And the plot  
> (and most dialog) is ripped off of the wonderful Channel 4 film The  
> Very Thought of You.

###  Prologue 

Viggo stepped out of his apartment and silently eased the door shut. He turned and braced himself on the door before leaning down and resting his forehead on it as well. His shoulders were tense and one could tell just by looking at him that something was wrong. Viggo stood still for a moment before he tapped his head against the door a few times in frustration. After releasing a heavy breath Viggo used his hands to launch himself away from the door. He turned around; decision made, and walked over to the elevator.

When he reached the lobby Viggo got out of the elevator and walked purposefully towards the double doors that led to the street. His mind was in turmoil. So much so in fact, that he ran right into a postman dropping letters into the tenants mailboxes. Letters floated to the floor and Viggo knelt to pick them up while apologizing profusely. After picking up the letters Viggo stood and stuffed them into the box the mailman had been aiming for before Viggo had interrupted.

The mail carrier gave Viggo a last perturbed look before walking away. Viggo decided to wait a moment before following, as to not further traumatize the postal worker. As he stood there Viggo glanced at the floor and noticed a single letter he had neglected to pick up. He reached down and found that it was addressed to:

**Dr. I. McKellen, Psychologist**

Viggo put it into the postbox with the other letters, taking note of the apartment number: 16L.

After a moment of indecision and with a last questioning look towards the buildings exit, Viggo walked back to the elevator and hit the button for the 12th floor. He began nervously tapping his foot as he waited for the elevator to reach its destination. He had to do this before he lost his nerve.

When the doors slid open Viggo shot out like a canon and headed directly for apartment 16L. He stood shifting his weight before the door with an agonized look on his face. Wiping his sweaty hands on his khakis, he raised a finger to the buzzer and pressed down.

After waiting for what felt like hours, but in fact was only a few seconds, Viggo prepared to turn tail and run. He was too shy for this sort of thing. Just when his back was to the door, he heard it open. Viggo froze, and realizing he was caught, turned to face the doctor.

Dr. McKellen was a somewhat gruff looking man. He was short and portly with messy dark hair and an equally messy beard. Currently he stood tying off his robe and watching Viggo expectantly.

"Ummm...", Viggo began uncomfortably. Then, thrusting out his hand in greeting, Viggo continued, "Hello. I am Viggo Mortensen. I just wanted to welcome you to the building and to introduce myself, I am your neighbor from downstairs."

The doctors’ eyes widened as he shook Viggo's hand. His face carried a look of disbelief as he spoke, "I've lived here for nine years... and it's 5:30 in the morning".

Viggo grabbed at the back of his own neck, massaging roughly for a moment before speaking again, "Actually I was wondering if you could help me with something".

Taking in Viggo's rumbled pants, disheveled hair, and paint splattered t-shirt; the doctor raised his eyebrows and repeated suspiciously, "help you with something".

"You know, just talk through some things with me", Viggo supplied hopefully.

With a sigh, the doctor backed away from the door, giving Viggo room to walk in. Shutting the door behind his guest, Dr. McKellen walked into his apartment gesturing for a nervous Viggo to go into the living room. The doctor himself headed for the small kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink", the man called to Viggo.

"No. Thank You", Viggo replied hesitantly, "I'd rather get straight to it, if you don’t mind."

"No, not at all", the doctor answered, entering the room with a cup of tea and an alarm clock. Seeing Viggo standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, he nodded at Viggo to take a seat.

"So this is it?", Viggo questioned, indicating the offending piece of red furniture, "The couch I mean".

"Well, the sofa, yes", the doctor replied with a smile, seating himself on a nearby chair. McKellen winded the clock and placed it on the coffee table.

"Should I sit or lie? What do people usually do?", Viggo asked.

"Most people sit", was the amused reply.

Viggo blushed. "Yes, of course", he said, taking a seat.

"So, what did you want to talk about?", the doctor coaxed after an awkward silence.

Taking a moment to think Viggo leaned back in his seat. He looked McKellen in the eyes and stated earnestly, "I want to talk about love, friendship and deceit. I want to talk about how until three days ago there were three men; friends, best friends for years: Johnny, Elijah and I. We watched each other’s backs, or, at least, I watched theirs. That’s just the way it's always been. Anyway, three people whose lives were okay. Not perfect, but okay. But that was three days ago... "


	2. Johnny

Chapter 1

* * *

"Johnny was in London finalizing some record deal and was on his way home.", Viggo stated. "He's this hot shot executive in the music business. You know the type: makes tons of money, only flies first class, and hits on every attractive young thing he comes across? Anyway, that always causes problems with Elijah", Viggo paused, "What can I say about Elijah? He's a penniless out of work actor consumed with envy for Johnny and I'm the one stuck in the middle. There had been some competition over a French actress. Elijah wouldn't stop talking about it on the way to dinner that night."

 

~Flashback~

Viggo walked down the street towards the restaurant with Elijah at his  
heels. Elijah was gesticulating wildly, his oversized trench coat  
billowing behind him as he pled his case to Viggo.

"Okay", the younger man began, "Here's how it happened. Billy, the  
agent, gives me a call and tells me about this party he's throwing for  
this beautiful bombshell actress. He needs men to fill the room,  
right. Anyway, he asks me to invite Johnny because he's read some  
article on how fucking eligible he is, or some shit like that. But, at  
the party, Billy puts me right next to bombshell lady, place of honor.  
We talk, we laugh, and she ends up giving me her number. Turns out  
there's a break in filming and she has the weekend off, and she wants  
me to call her. So the next day I do. No response. So I call again the  
day after, still no response. Then Billy calls me. Turns out she's  
spending the weekend in Venice with Johnny. Now you tell me. Are those  
the actions of a friend?", Elijah spat.

"Well...", Viggo hedged as he and Elijah entered the establishment. A  
waitress quickly seated them and Elijah immediately started in again.

"You know", he ranted, "The only reason he was interested was because  
he knew I was. Greedy prick. And I've been thinking about that thing  
you always say. That we're the best friends we'll ever have, and all  
that. Well, I've been thinking about that and I've realized that I  
hate him. I hate him, and he hates me. There's a nice kind of symmetry  
to it. We hate each other with the commitment you can only get from  
people who've known you for years. If he were here right now I'd punch  
him right in his smug, selfish, actress hogging face."

~end flashback~

 

"Elijah was in a perpetual bad mood. The acting thing was getting him down; he hadn't worked in years. He was in a bad way.", Viggo explained, " And with Johnny being so successful and so ready to flaunt that in Elijah's face, well, you get the idea. So I had to talk to Johnny before he could talk to Elijah- but Johnny was in London about to cause us even more trouble. It all began with something as simple as a trolley".

 

~flashback~

Johnny stepped out of his cab and dragged his heavy suitcases out  
along with him. He was wearing a slightly too large business suit and  
had his shoulder length dark haired tied back at the nape of his neck.  
After tottering onto the pavement, he looked around desperately for a  
trolley to put his luggage on. The airport was crowded and someone  
brushed passed Johnny, unbalancing him. Johnny spun in that direction  
and scowled. His face cleared however, as he noticed a lone trolley  
sitting just a few feet in front of him. He immediately raced to it  
before someone else could claim in. But just as he was about to place  
his bags down, he saw a brown duffel bag and a yellow backpack steal  
the trolley.

"Hey!", Johnny exclaimed, staring at the bags in horror, "that’s my  
trolley! I saw it from all the way back there!"

"Sorry, but no it isn't", answered a musical voice with a cute British  
accent, "I just walked away for a minute to put change in the machine."

Johnny's eyes followed the voice up a lithe body to the most beautiful  
face he had ever seen. Smooth olive skin stretched over fine features  
and topped off with a mop of silken chocolate curls.

"Well then", Johnny said with a winning smile, "I guess it is yours.  
Here, let me help you".

The young man smiled back and Johnny felt his heart melt.

"Thank you. And I'd heard that all Americans were rude...you are  
American, aren't you?", the boy said, his liquid brown eyes sparkling.

"Yes, I am from New York actually", Johnny managed.

"That's where I am going. New York City", the young man glanced at  
Johnny and his suitcases, "Nice bags. Have you got the whole set?", he  
asked with an amused smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Johnny nodded.

"Posh", the brunette commented with wink. The boy then put another bag  
on the trolley, grabbed the handle, and walked away. Johnny stared  
after him stupidly.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Johnny rushed to the customer  
service desk. After catching the attention of the blonde woman behind  
the counter he pulled out his wallet and quickly queried, "See that  
guy over there? The one in the striped pink shirt? I need you to  
upgrade his ticket to first class and put him in the seat next to me".

"I am sorry I can't do that, Sir", the woman answered with a strange  
look.

"Why not?", Johnny demanded.

"Because", the woman said, "He's on a different flight".

"But, he said he was going to New York", Johnny said sounding  
exasperated.

"He is", she answered with a laugh, "But two hours later and, rather  
crucially in this case, with another airline."

"Oh come on! You people have deals with each other! You can fix  
something!", Johnny argued.

"Sorry, but I am afraid you'll have to buy a fresh ticket", she said  
plucking Johnny's credit card out of his hand, "that’s five thousand  
pounds. One way". She paused before she swiped the card, "Are you sure  
you want to do this? I mean, airports can do strange things to people".

Johnny lifted his chin, "I've made up my mind".

"In that case you need to bring the gentleman over here so I can check  
his passport", she said handing back Johnny's card.

"No! You don’t understand", Johnny said, leaning forward, "It has to  
be a coincidence. He mustn't know I've done it!"

"Well, what do you want me to do sir?", she asked.

"Well, make something up! Make up some excuse about the flight being  
full. Maybe there's a special offer. Or maybe you just", Johnny threw  
up his hands, "picked him!"

"Just picked him?", the woman repeated confused.

Johnny flashed her a toothy grin

****

Johnny sat with a newspaper in front of his face, determinately not  
looking at the seat next to him. He lowered his head even further when  
he heard footsteps approaching. When he finally felt a weight lower  
into the seat next to him, he dropped the paper...

And came face to face with a young blonde woman with freckles and two  
different colored eyes. She was holding out her hand.

"Hi! I am Kate", she enthused grabbing a drink off a stewardesses  
tray, "I love first class- everything is complimentary. It's just that  
word: complementary. It really gets me going. If drinks are on the  
house, I don’t think: How wonderful. How nice. I think: How many. Not  
that I am an alcoholic”, she ranted.

Johnny stood up and walked to the curtain sectioning off first class.  
He pulled it open a bit and peeked through. There he was, a few rows  
back. The boy in the pink shirt. He was surrounded by loud noise and  
children jumping on their seats. Johnny glanced back at Kate, who was  
batting her eyelashes coquettishly and waving.

~end flashback~

 

"Something had gone wrong," Viggo stated, "Johnny needed to make a decision. At the time it was a decision between first class and economy, not the kind of thing that you'd think would change the rest of our lives. But a lot can happen in three days- and in three days, its all fallen apart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any formatting issues because I haven't really figured out the site yet. This was originally posted on Mirrormere ages ago, and I just got an Ao3 account, so I figured I might as well re-post it here.


	3. In flight

Chapter 2

* * *

 

 

~~~Flashback~~~

 

Johnny grabbed his bags and passed through the curtain into the chaos

that was coach. As he approached Johnny noticed that his boy was

staring absentmindedly out of the window. After stuffing his bags into

the overhead compartment, Johnny collapsed in the seat next to the

boy. Looking over with a fake air of nonchalance, Johnny pretended to

just notice him.

 

"Oh! Hello", he exclaimed with a facade of surprise, "What a

coincidence!"

 

The boy looked over at him and smiled saying, "Yea. It must be fate",

before turning back to the window.

 

Johnny pushed his hand in front of the boy, "I am Johnny ".

 

The boy turned back around and nodded reaching out for Johnny hand.

"Johnny", he said trying out the name. Then added with a smile,

"Johnny with the matching bags. I am Orlando. Nice to meet you.

Again".

 

"Nice to meet you too", Johnny said. After a few moments of silence

Johnny continued, "This is weird isn't it? Us sitting next to each

other, I mean".

 

The boy- Orlando, Johnny amended in his mind, smiled and nodded. "It

is, but do you want to hear something really weird?". When Johnny

nodded Orlando continued. "While I was waiting on line to check in,

this man in a uniform comes up to me and is like, 'Congratulations

Sir. You are the 100,000th passenger to fly on this airline, this

route, this year. And to mark this occasion, a completely different

airline would like to fly you first-class to New York."

 

"Wow", Johnny said with a slightly forced smile.

 

"I mean", Orlando went on apparently not noticing Johnny's discomfort,

"Do you know how much those tickets cost?"

 

Johnny pursed his lips before answering, "Remind me".

 

"Five thousand pounds. Honestly what kind on a Nutter wastes that much

money on a plane ticket ", Orlando commented with a laugh. Johnny at a

loss for what to do laughed with him.

 

"I asked him to give me the money but he refused. So I sold the ticket

to a woman who couldn't wait to give me two thousand dollars for it.",

Orlando said.

 

"Two thousand dollars", Johnny repeated with a strained laugh.

 

"Plus", Orlando continued with a big grin, "My seat's fine. I feel

good. I feel great in fact. How do you feel?"

 

"Great", Johnny answered.

 

The two men smiled at each other for a few seconds until a flight

attendant interrupted them by giving them their meals.

 

***

Johnny stood by the partition biting his lip. He reached out and

pulled back the curtain. Peeking inside he saw Kate with a glass of

champagne and a shrimp cocktail. Suddenly a stewardess, who after

raising an eyebrow at him, snapped the curtain shut and blocked his

view. When Johnny turned to go back to his seat he almost ran into

Orlando who was exiting the bathroom.

 

"We can 't seem to stay away from each other can we?", Johnny noted

with a smirk.

 

"No I guess not", Orlando replied with a slight blush. With that they

both headed back to their seats.

 

As they sat Johnny said, "I heard the flight attendants talking and it

looks like we've caught a tail wind. That means we'll be landing about

an hour early in New York."

 

When that failed to garner a response Johnny asked, "Is someone

meeting you there?"

 

That made Orlando smile. "No", the younger man said.

 

"Do you know anyone in New York?"

 

Orlando shook his head.

 

"Oh", Johnny floundered. "Is it your first time out of Europe?"

 

Orlando looked down, "Maybe"

 

"Why New York then?", Johnny asked puzzled.

 

'Well", Orlando explained, "L.A. was 290. Chicago was 215. Mexico City

was 190 And New York was 99"

 

"You're going to New York because the ticket cost 99 pounds?", Johnny

said confusedly.

 

"It seemed like as good a place as any to start", Orlando offered.

 

"Start what?", Johnny asked.

 

"The rest of my life.", Orlando admitted

 

"You're not going back?", Johnny questioned.

 

Orlando shrugged, "Nothing to go back to, except working like a mule

for a flat I can't afford...and...,"Orlando paused before continuing

in a quieter voice, "and a man who used me to amuse his friends".

 

When this left Johnny in a stunned silence, Orlando went on, "Nothing

to keep me there, so I just left. I am going to start over in New

York". Seeing the look on Johnny's face he said, "You think I am mad

don’t you?"

 

"No, Of course not!... Well, yes, actually I do... How much money did

you bring with you, if you don't mind me asking?", Johnny queried.

 

"Twenty-three dollars ", Orlando said with laugh.

 

"Twenty-three dollars? They'd have put you on the first plane back!",

Johnny exclaimed.

 

"Yea right, even with nice American gentlemen such as yourself

around?", Orlando countered.

 

At Johnny's blank look Orlando continued, "I know about the ticket

Johnny".

 

"What ticket", Johnny said with mock innocence.

 

"What ticket?", Orlando repeated in an imitation of Johnny's accent.

 

Orlando smiled at Johnny's shocked face, "You didn't expect me to

believe that story, did you?"

 

"Ah...the hundred-", Johnny began.

 

"Look please, I'm flattered, really. No one's ever done anything like

that for me before; it was sweet. Thank you.", Orlando leaned in and

gave Johnny a peck on the cheek before leaning back in his seat,

"Besides, now I have two thousand twenty-three dollars".

 

***

 

It was dark in the airplane, and quiet as most of the passengers were

sleeping. Orlando was leaning his airline pillow against the window

and trying to fall asleep. Johnny had his pillow on Orlando's shoulder

and was decidedly not trying to sleep.

 

"Our conversation earlier, I don’t think you're crazy at all.", Johnny

started, "I work seventy hours a week, and I earn a fortune. And do

you know how big my apartment is? Four thousand square feet. The day

after I moved in I paid half a dozen strangers to decorate it. And

one of the rooms they called a library, and they filled it full of

books. Thousands of books, covering every subject, and they're all

secondhand. You know why?"

 

Orlando opened his eyes sleepily, "It was cheaper?"

 

"No", Johnny said, "so it looks like they've been read".

 

"Ahh", Orlando sighed snuggling into his pillow.

 

"You see", Johnny went on, "I have the home of a widely traveled,

widely read, deeply interesting man, with taste".

 

Orlando shifted in his seat pushing Johnny back a bit before

resettling against the window, now facing Johnny, "And that’s not

you", he stated.

 

"No"

 

"Not even the deeply interesting bit?", Orlando questioned.

 

When he didn't get a response Orlando continued, "You know what you

should do? You should just pack up and clear out. Bring things back

from your travels. You know, putting the books up one by one after

you've read them".

 

"Just pack up and clear out?", Johnny repeated replacing his pillow

and head on Orlando's shoulder.

 

"Mm-hmm. The hell with the consequences, you know", Orlando said

gently pushing Johnny back into his own seat.

 

"Yeah, one day I might just do that", Johnny said, giving up and

relaxing into his own seat.

 

Orlando smiled softly before drifting off.

 

***

 

The plane had landed and all of the passengers were jostling out into

the airport. Johnny was following closely behind Orlando as they

waited on line.

 

"I know I shouldn't be doing this", Johnny said, "but there's this

hotel my company has an arrangement with, and as a welcome to New York

and a token of good will I'd like you to stay there on your first

night". With that Johnny held out the hotels business card to Orlando.

 

Orlando looked at it in shock, "Mmm-mm, no. You know I can't accept

that".

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa", Johnny defended, "No strings attached ... Please."

 

When Orlando had reluctantly accepted the card Johnny continued, "And

you have to join me for lunch tomorrow".

 

Orlando nodded, "Ahhh...That’s the catch"

 

"Catch?", Johnny asked, "You think that's the catch? Many people would

be delighted by that."

 

"I'm sure", Orlando said with a grin.

 

"Anyway", Johnny continued on, handing Orlando another card, "that was

the hotels address and this is my card".

 

"Johnny with the matching bags", Orlando read teasingly, "Cute".

 

"Does it say that on the card?", Johnny asked.

 

"Yeah", Orlando laughed, "Well, no."

 

"No", Johnny agreed with a smile, "So you'll call me tomorrow, yeah?"

 

"Yeah", the younger man conceded distractedly as he tucked the cards

inside his wallet and pulled out his passport as they were now at the

head of the line, "I won't forget".

 

"You wont forget?", Johnny repeated.

 

"Nope. I'll ring you first thing", Orlando said as he handed his

passport to security. Once his passport was returned Orlando headed

off, leaving Johnny behind.

 

Johnny watched the beautiful young man leave until his reverie was

broken by a call of: "Sir! Your passport".

 

"Oh!", Johnny said reaching for his passport and handing it over.

 

***

That night Johnny and his business associates had a meeting at his

apartment. Unable to bear the boring conversation any longer Johnny

excused himself and went into his bedroom. He picked up his phone and

dialed the hotel's number.

 

"Hello", he said into the receiver, "It's Johnny Depp. Yeah, has he

arrived? Oh excellent. I want you to get a bouquet of flowers and

have it sent up to his room. No, no preferences. I'm sure it'll be

wonderful. Thank you. Yes. Bye."

 

Johnny hung up the phone and returned to his coworkers with a smile on

his face.

 

***

 

"What does he think I'm blind?", Johnny barked into his phone, "It's

right there in line two of the contract! So tell him to sign it and

get it over here by lunchtime. Right, okay? Bye". Johnny slammed down

the phone and started pacing his office.

 

Johnny's attempt to wear a hole in his hardwood floor was interrupted

by his assistant Cate walking into his office.

 

"Orlando Bloom", she stated.

 

Johnny's eyes got wide and hopeful.

 

"He's not a client is he?", Cate questioned with the arch of an

elegant blond eyebrow.

 

"Uh, no, not exactly", Johnny said nervously.

 

"Well", Cate continued, " This hotel bill mysteriously found it's way

into company expenses. I was about to authorize it and then realized

you'd obviously made a mistake... and were intending to settle it

yourself".

 

"Yeah, yeah", Johnny quickly assured her, "No, I was. I was. Of

course, I was".

 

Cate nodded with a sugary smile and headed for the door. About halfway

there she turned around and asked with a wicked smirk, "Champagne for

two at midnight?"

 

Johnny's head snapped up and he choked on his breath as Cate exited

the room.

 

"For two?", he squeaked.

 

~~~End Flashback~~~

 

"It was unprecedented: Johnny being given the runaround", Viggo explained to Ian, "You can imagine what followed. Phone calls, phone calls, and more phone calls. Suddenly, Johnny needed us after all.”

 

 


	4. Lunch

Chapter 3

* * *

 

 

~~~Flashback~~~

 

"I love my mother", Elijah said.

 

Elijah Wood stood on the street waiting for Viggo, his oversized

trench coat blowing in the wind. His drably colored clothes coincided

with his mood as he stood practicing his lines for his next audition.

 

"I love my mother", he said, this time with a pretentious accent.

 

Viggo came up behind Elijah and patted his shoulder before nodding

towards the expensive restaurant and walking towards the doors.

 

"I love my mother", Elijah repeated pulling the script from his

pocket.

 

"Elijah! Come on, please!", Viggo called from the doorway.

 

Elijah returned the script to his pocket and jogged to catch up with

Viggo.

 

"I can't believe this! I've got this audition in two hours.", Elijah

said sounded annoyed.

 

"Lij", Viggo said sternly, "He sounded desperate".

 

Elijah laughed bitterly, " Christ. Well, I'm gonna break his nose;

first his nose, then his fucking jaw-"

 

Viggo grabbed his arm and cut him off, “Get this; He even offered to

pay for the meal".

 

Elijah's jaw dropped, "Fuck!", he said in amazement.

 

The two men were led to a table by a waitress. Johnny sat there

waiting for them and looking miserable. He started talking as soon as

his friends sat down.

 

"This has never happened to me before!", Johnny complained in anguish,

"I can't concentrate on work. I can't eat. Do I look pale?"

 

Elijah put out his clove cigarette in an ashtray, "I can't believe we

have to meet about this".

 

Johnny rolled his eyes, "Lij, he was giving me all the signals, okay.

A man can tell."

 

Elijah scoffed, "Yeah, right. Like champagne at midnight with somebody

else? You're a musk magnet Johnny".

 

Johnny frowned and then shook his head, "If you'd met him, you'd

understand".

 

Shaking his head Elijah said, "I've been trying to understand since we

got here. So you meet some guy in the airport, you get a big rush of

blood to your.... head, it costs you a fortune, and because he treats

you like a jerk, you fall in love. If it's humiliation you desire,

I’ll gladly arrange it anytime. It would be my pleasure. But don’t let

this..." ,Elijah trailed off.

 

"Orlando", Johnny supplied.

 

"Orlando... ruin your life." Elijah stated tossing back a drink,

"What’s the big attraction anyway? Did you screw him?"

 

Johnny groaned and looked over to Viggo who had been sketching in his

notebook during the conversation, "I can't believe he said that".

 

"Well", Elijah added defensively, "He's obviously screwing everyone

else".

 

"He's different, Elijah", Johnny said, "He's different from anybody

I've ever met".

 

"Oh", Elijah said clearly not believing it.

 

"Viggo", Johnny implored turning towards his other friend, "help me

out here. You understand these things. Describe for Elijah the perfect

lover".

 

Elijah burst out laughing, "I'm sorry. Now you're just being sad".

 

"The perfect lover?", Viggo began, " Well, he'd um-- he'd have a light

in his eyes..."

 

"Yes.", Johnny agreed.

 

"...an infectious, wonderful smile", Viggo continued to Johnny's

frantic nodding, "talking to him you told him things you'd never told

anyone."

 

"Yes", Johnny said still nodding, "I did. I did that".

 

"You begin to see things in a way you've never seen them."

 

"Yes, yes", Johnny responded.

 

"Leaving him, you knew that somehow things had irreversibly changed,

and would never be the same again", Viggo concluded.

 

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!", Johnny exclaimed, "Exactly, thank you!"

 

Elijah was giggling softly and shaking his head. He looked at Viggo

and said, “So he didn't screw him".

 

"Of course I didn't sleep with him!", Johnny said angrily, "Besides

the fact that I never sleep with anyone on the first date, we were on

an airplane together".

 

"Everyone has sex on airplanes", Elijah challenged.

 

Johnny sighed, "What are you talking about? Where"

 

Elijah rolled his eyes and shrugged, " 'Where?' In the cockpit, in the

bathrooms, under those cheap airplane blankets. I did it between

London and Amsterdam".

 

Johnny scoffed, "London and Amsterdam's only forty minutes. They don’t

even let you out of your--"

 

"I didn't say it was great sex", Elijah conceded, "It was a rush job".

 

"Uh-huh", Johnny said, "And how did you do it, standing up or sitting

down?"

 

"What do you want a fucking video? What's wrong with you?", Elijah

demanded.

 

"Hey", Johnny said changing the topic, "look at Viggo".

 

"Hmmm?", Elijah mumbled looking at Viggo, who when his friends had

stopped paying attention to him, had returned to his sketch.

 

"You okay?", Johnny asked.

 

"Yea, I'm fine", Viggo assured.

 

"Yeah, are you alright old man? You look a bit pale", Elijah

questioned.

 

"Oh, it's nothing", Viggo said still working on his sketch.

 

Johnny leaned over and put his hand on Viggo's to stop its movement.

"What's your opinion on all this?"

 

"My opinion", Viggo said looking into Johnny's eyes, "I was just

thinking, the fact that he hasn't called you, doesn't necessarily mean

he's not interested".

 

Johnny perked up at that, "You don’t think?"

 

"No", Viggo said, "Plus, we should consider most people that you meet

do find you very attractive".

 

"Not all of them, no", Johnny interrupted.

 

"I see no reason why this one should be any different.", Viggo

continued, " He may have lost your card".

 

"He may have lost my card", Johnny repeated.

 

"And", Viggo went on, " he may be walking around New York City right

now wishing he knew where to find you".

 

"You see", Johnny said with a smug look on his face, "That is

friendship!"

 

"Yeah, yeah", Elijah muttered.

 

"That's the way I see it", Viggo finished.

 

"I hadn't even thought of the card. Thank you, Viggo", Johnny said,

"Thank you. I feel much better now."

 

Just then the waitress showed up with the bill.

 

"Split this three ways?", Johnny asked.

 

Elijah pulled a face, "The fuck we will! It's over a hundred dollars".

 

"So?", Johnny said.

 

"So I can’t afford that.", Elijah said harshly, "You suggested this

yupped-up, overpriced dump. You fucking pay".

 

"Elijah, please", Johnny said condescendingly, "if you can't afford

it, then stay at home. Honestly, because this happens every time. It's

embarrassing". That said Johnny gave the waitress some cash and told

her to keep the change.

 

"Maybe", he went on to say, "if you didn't piss away what little money

you have on cheap wine and Space Invaders--"

 

"Maybe if I didn't piss away what little money I have on yuppie posing

parlors, like this dump--"

 

"I swear to God", Johnny interrupted Elijah and turned to Viggo, "I'm

gonna punch his lights out".

 

"Yea, dream on, sad boy.", Elijah's voice dripped with venom, "Touch

me with one finger and you die".

 

Viggo had had enough and stood up and threw down his sketchpad with a

loud thump. "Shut up both of you! If you really want to hit each

other, hit each other. Just get it over and done with. Anything but

talking about it all the time."

 

By the time Viggo had finished his diatribe half of the restaurant was

staring at him.

 

Viggo picked up his jacket and finished with, "It gives me a

headache".

 

Johnny and Elijah watched as their friend exited the establishment.

 

"It was your fault.", Johnny said, "Lets go".

 

When the two men caught up with Viggo he was putting on his coat and

bracing himself to walk into the rainstorm.

 

Johnny grabbed Viggo's arm and then his hand, shaking it. "Sorry", he

said.

 

Viggo nodded and returned the shake, "I'll see you when I see you".

 

As Viggo walked off into the rain on his way home, Elijah ran out and

tried to hail a cab. When nothing stopped he dodged back under the

awning to stand with Johnny.

 

"Actually", Johnny said once Elijah joined him, "I've been meaning to

speak to you about that actress".

 

"Yea, just don’t", Elijah said shortly.

 

"It's just that Billy mentioned how upset you were, so I thought--",

Johnny began.

 

"I was-", Elijah looked down at his shoes, "I was not upset!"

 

"You know", Johnny continued as though he hadn't heard, "Viggo was

concerned enough about your condition to drive to the airport to speak

to me about you".

 

"Just--", Elijah started angrily.

 

Again Johnny pretended not to hear his friend, "Because your behavior

lately has been a little crazy, okay".

 

Elijah shook his head and lit a cigarette.

 

Johnny was unperturbed my Elijah's apparent lack of interest, "You

want my opinion. You should go out there. You should do this audition.

You should get a life. And maybe then... you wouldn't be such a pain

in the ass".

 

The last was said with a poke to Elijah's side.

 

"Taxi!", Johnny shouted. His call was immediately answered and he

stepped into the waiting cab with a wave at Elijah.

 

Elijah glared at the cab until it disappeared, then he took off in the

opposite direction.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still getting used to the site, but I'm going to try and update a little every day.


	5. The audition

Chapter 4

* * *

 

"I love my mother.", Elijah repeated his eyes glued to the script in

his lap.

 

The bus was crowded and Elijah was perched on the edge of a seat in

the back, on his way to his audition. There was an old woman sitting

next to him who kept shooting him odd looks. He looked at the roof of

the bus and tried the lines from memory.

 

"I love my mother. I love my mother deeply. But yet, she smokes, she

drinks, she lives quite openly with that novelist... she... she...

damn it!", he exclaimed looking down at the script.

 

"I love my mother.", he started again, this time with a different

inflection. "I love my mother deeply. But then, she smokes..."

 

The bus stopped to let off some passengers. Looking up Elijah realized

that it was his stop. He got off the bus and headed into the theater

through the service entrance. When he got backstage he saw that there

were several dozen other men trying out for the part, all of them

running through their lines. Elijah took a seat in one of the folding

chairs that had been set up around the room. One by one the actors

were called on stage and soon the room was almost empty. Elijah began

to sweat.

 

"Elijah. Elijah Wood?", called a voice from the stage.

 

Elijah swallowed and shook his head. He dropped the script and raced

back out the service door.

 

***

 

Elijah had taken another bus and was now sitting in Central Park

watching people play chess. The pocket that used to hold the script

now held a bottle of liquor, which Elijah would occasionally take out

and gulp. It was already a quarter empty.

 

Nearby on a bench, sat another young man, this one reading from a

travel guide. He raised his head of chocolate curls and peered around

with matching eyes.

 

"Did you know", the brunette said to the homeless person on the bench

next to him, "that if you walk through this park you can see some of

Manhattans best attractions?"

 

The homeless man made a questioning noise.

 

"Oh, yeah", the boy went on, standing up and pointing directions as he

read from the book, "it says here that from here- if you go north,

you'll get to the Delecorte Theater. If you go west you'll find the

American Museum of Natural History. If you go east you'll see the

Obelisk. And if you go south, you can get to the Boat House. Also in

the park are such sights as the Tavern on the Green, the Strawberry

Fields, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Lasker Rink and Pool"(1).

 

Elijah was staring desolately at his bottle, but looked up when he

heard footsteps approach him from behind.

 

"Did you know that Manhattan was bought from the Native Americans for

twenty-five dollars?", a smooth British accent asked.

 

Elijah turned around to see an attractive young man wearing jeans, a

green tee-shirt and a black wool jacket  reading from a book called

"A Visitors Guide to Manhattan".

 

"No.", Elijah answers, "No. I didn't know that".

 

"It's true", the young man said earnestly face still searching the

book, " There are over a hundred and fifty languages spoken in

Manhattan and the residential population is about 16 million, rising

to 17 million in the summertime".

 

Elijah turned back to the chess game and took a swallow, "That's a lot

of people".

 

"Yep", the stranger said, "Especially when you're just looking for

one".

 

When the boy turned to leave Elijah was only slightly disappointed. He

watched as the young man walked back to the bench and the homeless

person before returning his attention to the chess game.

 

"One in sixteen million", the boy said sadly as he sat down among his

luggage. After tucking the book into his backpack he looked around

helplessly before his eyes settled on Elijah.

 

"Sir?", the young man asked.

 

Elijah turned around, not sure he was being called.

 

"Could I have a sip of your drink?"

 

Looking back at the boy to get a closer look, Elijah decided that the

guy's good looks made him worth the trouble. He unscrewed the cap of

the bottle and put it on the pavement next to where he sat.

 

"Thanks", said the accent. Elijah heard the footsteps approaching

again and then felt the stranger sit next to him.

 

"I am Orlando, by the way", the boy said.

 

Elijah's head snapped around and his eyes widened. He stared as

Orlando took a drink, then burst out laughing, "I know".

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- My sense of direction is crap but from memory and an old map this  
> should be about right. They are on 79th St. and Transverse rd


	6. Elijah

 

Chapter 5

* * *

  
  
Orlando turned and looked at Elijah confused, "You can't know. It's  
impossible for you to know".  
  
When Elijah finally managed to stop laughing he replied, "Yeah, you're  
Orlando. You're British, and you're looking for someone you think- you  
know- you're in love with, because you feel it right here". Elijah put  
his hand over his heart dramatically.   
  
"Actually", Orlando added, putting his hand over his flat stomach, "It  
was here. It was like a thunder bolt".  
  
Elijah's eyebrows went up, "A thunderbolt? Tell me, just for my  
education, what does it feel like to be struck by a thunderbolt?"  
  
Orlando turned a bit so he was seated facing Elijah, "It happened in  
the airport".  
  
Elijah smiled and looked down at the pavement.  
  
"I was carrying my bags, you know", Orlando continued gesticulating  
wildly, "Crowds everywhere, confusion. And then all of a sudden there  
was no more noise. There was just him and there was me. And I felt  
sick, you know? And it makes me so angry... because that was not the  
plan! Oh no. The plan was a future of irresponsible liaisons and  
roads paved in gold. The plan was not waking up in a hotel room,  
lonely and in love, booking the first flight home".  
  
By the time Orlando finished his speech his voice was trembling with  
emotion. he handed Elijah back his bottle and stood up to go back to  
his bags.  
  
"Wait!", Elijah called standing up to follow him, "What? You're going  
home?"  
  
Orlando sat down on the now abandoned bench and waited for Elijah to  
join him before answering, "Yeah, there's a flight that leaves  
tomorrow night. Isn't it pathetic, huh? Less than twenty-four hours  
into a new life and I completely choke. Now my only hope is that when  
I go home, no one will have even noticed that I left", his voice broke  
but he forced himself to continue, "That way I can get my job back.  
And my apartment. Oh, God!", he finished, burying his face in his  
hands.  
  
Elijah blinked at him and Orlando forced out a weak laugh, "That  
whiskey really hit me".  
  
Laughing with him Elijah agreed, "Yeah. Yeah, it hit me too".  
  
They shared a smile and Elijah said, "Listen, I don’t suppose you'd  
consider getting some coffee with a certain pathetic, spineless drunk?"  
  
Orlando nodded and said, "They say like attracts like, don’t  
they?"  
  
"They do, don’t they?", Elijah returned.  
  
***  
  
When they entered the cafe, Orlando went to get a table while Elijah  
went to order their drinks.   
  
"Coffee or tea?", he asked.  
  
"I'll have a tea", Orlando answered while putting down his bags.  
  
Instead of going to the counter to place the order Elijah went to a  
payphone, pushed in some change and dialed a number.  
  
After a few rings someone answered.  
  
"Hello?", Viggo said.  
  
'Yeah, it's me. I've got him!"  
  
"Got who?"  
  
"What do you mean, who? HIM! Orlando. Johnny's brit!"  
  
"What do you mean 'got him' "  
  
"Eating out of my hand", Elijah answered with a smirk, "You know,  
pupils dilating kind of got him".  
  
"Elijah, tell me, where are you now?", Viggo demanded.   
  
"In the cafe in the park. I can't wait to tell Johnny! I am really  
gonna enjoy this."  
  
"Elijah, listen to me-"  
  
"Look", Elijah interrupted, "I haven't got time for a moral  
discussion, Viggo. I just wanted to tell someone the good news".  
  
Elijah slammed down the phone and left Viggo staring at his cell  
phone.  
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

 

  
"It was the worst thing that could have happened. And with the destructive mood Elijah was in, left alone to seduce him. Well, you could imagine how I felt", explained Viggo.

 


	7. Art galleries

 

Chapter 6

* * *

  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
Orlando and Elijah were laughing and enjoying their drinks. Elijah was  
balancing a cigarette between his lips as he poured some sugar into  
his coffee.  
  
"You know", Orlando observed, "your face looks so familiar to me. You  
look like somebody".  
  
Flicking the ash off of his cigarette Elijah replied, "My face is  
probably familiar because as a child I was a successful working  
actor".  
  
"Wow", Orlando said, his eyes lighting up.  
  
"Yeah", Elijah said bitterly, "Then it all fell apart".  
  
At Orlando sudden frown Elijah quickly assured, "It's not such a bad  
life, you know. I occasionally get a 'Whatever Happened To' or "Where  
are They Now' column written about me in the newspapers. Every couple  
of Christmases they rerun some of my old films and I get a fresh batch  
of love letters from six year old girls. I am very big with  
six-year-old girls.", Elijah quipped.  
  
"That’s it?", Orlando asked in surprise, "You don’t get love letters  
from anyone else?"  
  
Elijah looked up from his cup of coffee, "W-why?"  
  
Orlando smiled, "Why? You know. You’re funny. You have a nice smile.  
Someone might me missing out".  
  
Eyes wide Elijah asked, "Where's Mister One-in-Sixteen Million now?"  
  
"Hmmm?", Orlando's brow creased as he took a sip of his tea.  
  
"Forgotten all about him, haven't you?", Elijah supplied with a smile.  
  
"That's not true!", Orlando defended.  
  
"Yes it is!", Elijah exclaimed, "You were sitting there, and you were  
thinking, 'Gosh yes, this man is okay. He’s better than I thought' ".  
  
Orlando shook his head slowly, "You think that when two people meet  
each other, that's the only thing that goes through their minds?"  
  
Elijah’s eyebrows shot up, "Of course. Yeah, when they are attracted  
to one another. In fact, most people are attracted to just about  
everybody. This 'perfect partner' shit is just a hoax; a physical,  
chemical impossibility. You know why?"  
  
"Why", Orlando said, playing along.  
  
"Because my perfect partner is me.", Elijah responded.  
  
"You?", this time Elijah was the one to receive the raised eyebrow.  
  
"Well", Elijah conceded, "me with breasts".  
  
Orlando snorted, "Okay, I've heard enough now".  
  
Elijah laughed at the look on Orlando's face, "No, it would be the   
perfect relationship. We like the same food. We like the same music.  
The sex would be great".  
  
During Elijah's monologue Orlando had started gathering his   
bags, "What is the point of all this?"  
  
"The point is, there is no 'one in sixteen million'!"  
  
"You don’t think so?", Orlando questioned.  
  
"No", Elijah immediately answered.  
  
Orlando stood up, "Then we'll agree to disagree".  
  
Elijah nodded bemusedly, "Whatever you say".  
  
"Well, it was nice meeting you", Orlando said, leaving a few dollars  
on the table.  
  
"Yeah", Elijah said, putting out his cigarette.  
  
With that, Orlando shrugged on his backpack and left. Elijah stared  
after him for a few seconds before deciding to follow. However, before  
he could leave the cafe, the owner stopped him and asked him to pay.  
  
"Oh... didn't he?", Elijah said motioning to Orlando.  
  
"No"  
  
"Ummm...", Elijah stuttered feeling his pockets for some cash, but  
only finding the half-full bottle. He snatched up the money Orlando  
had left and stuffed it into the cafe owners’ hands along with the  
bottle. Then he ran after Orlando calling, "I'll be back for change!",  
over his shoulder.  
  
When he finally caught up to Orlando, the boy was sitting on a bench.   
  
"Look on the bright side", Elijah tried, "You see you've still  
twenty-four hours to be as irresponsible as you like".   
  
Orlando sighed, gathering his things and getting up again, "Look  
Elijah, we had a cup of tea. I think we should just go our separate  
ways".  
  
Elijah took one of Orlando's bags and said, "Yea. Look, we could  
always swap. You see, you stay here. I go to London or wherever. Have  
you got running water? If you have, it's more than I've got".  
  
Orlando started walking and Elijah was tailing behind him.  
  
"I appreciate the effort Elijah, but-"  
  
Elijah had stopped.  
  
"Whatever the circumstances of your life, they cannot be as depressing  
as mine!", he shouted.  
  
Orlando turned around and strode over to face Elijah.  
  
"Ha! I wouldn't bet on it!", Orlando yelled back.  
  
"Oh, okay. Come on, try me", Elijah taunted before ticking his  
problems off on his fingers, "I live in a damp underground kennel.  
There aren't any windows. The gas leaks-"  
  
"Uh-huh", Orlando challenged, "I live one the 16th story of a housing  
project (1). I sleep to the sound of helicopters and gunfire.   
  
"Okay, Okay. Parents: I haven't got any."  
  
That stopped Orlando. When he looked about to apologize Elijah  
amended, "Well, not that talk to me".  
  
Orlando chucked, "Fine. My father died when I was three and my mother  
left me to become a Seventh Day Adventist".  
  
"Well", Elijah responded, "In the last few hours, I have blown the  
biggest job opportunity I'll have in years."  
  
"Oh, this past year alone, I applied for thirteen jobs. None called  
back and my pay was cut to 1.80 a hour.", Orlando ranted.  
  
"In the last month", Elijah yelled, "I have been arrested and spent  
three days in jail after the police found me unconscious in the  
streets!"  
  
"What?", Orlando questioned with wide eyes.  
  
Elijah laughed triumphantly and, after picking up Orlando's bag,  
started walking again. Orlando stood in shocked silence for a minute  
before jogging to catch up with Elijah. When the men were walking  
side-by-side Elijah nodded, "yeah".  
  
Orlando bit his lower lip but didn't say anything.  
  
"No, you roll your eyes and everything. You pretend you disapprove,  
but, the fact is, you like me more than you did an hour ago, don't  
you?", Elijah said.  
  
The two laughed and Orlando asked, "So, where are we going?"  
  
"You'll see", Elijah promised.  
  
***  
A little while later they stood inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  
Orlando had checked his bags so they were both unburdened.  
  
"I love this place.", Elijah told Orlando, "It's so full of  
hypocrites. Look at that guy pretending he's interested in the  
paintings.", a nod towards the man, "Look at him, look!"  
  
The man had approached a good-looking red headed lady looking at a  
painting.  
  
"Oh! And check out his one!", Elijah added pointing, "What does that  
asshole care about art? He's read in some magazine that this is the  
best pickup joint in the city. That's what he's doing here".  
  
"That is such as cynical attitude", Orlando chastised.   
  
A tour of the museum paused nearby.  
  
Elijah chuckled, "it's realistic. People come to art galleries for the  
sex. Look see that couple over there", he said pointing to an eighty  
year old couple, "They're here to look at the paintings. There's  
nothing more boring than looking at paintings. The only reason anyone  
ever comes to an art gallery is to get laid".  
  
"I say they're interested in art", Orlando reasoned.  
  
Elijah laughed, "All right, we'll do an experiment".  
  
Orlando shook his head, "Uh-uh".  
  
"Oh come on!", Elijah cajoled pointing left, " I'll walk this way",  
then pointing right, "You walk that way".  
  
"Fine", Orlando agreed hesitantly.   
  
"By the time we meet, I guarantee you, some single person, with an  
interest in art, will have come up to you and gone, 'Oh, yes. I see  
you like this piece. Perhaps we can talk about it over dinner'"  
  
"Alright", Orlando said skeptically as they stood up.  
  
"Back here, two minutes." Elijah ordered.  
  
With a simultaneous nod the two headed in their separate directions.  
Elijah wandered around stopping briefly to shake his head at some of  
the paintings and the people pretending to look at them. One of the  
paintings even made him throw up his hands in amusement before he  
hurried over to see who had created the ridiculous thing. The museum  
tour followed the same path as Elijah. It took him a while to make a  
circuit and end up where they had started.  
  
Elijah waited a few moments but Orlando didn't come back. Then he ran  
outside the museum looking around frantically. Orlando was gone.  
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
  
""And that was it: He just disappeared.", Viggo finished.  
  
After a moment of thought Ian spoke his mind, "You have two friends locked into a fruitless rivalry. They don't give a care in the world about you or your well-being. So, what's the problem?"  
  
Viggo sat up, "We need to go back to the Kennedy airport. Do we have time?"  
  
Ian checked the clock, "Half an hour".  
  
Viggo nodded, "When I found out Johnny had been in London, I decided to meet his flight. I felt we needed to talk about Elijah. And If I didn't get Johnny alone... So I went to the airport. You remember I mentioned the plane had a tailwind? Well it arrived almost an hour early".   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) I have no idea what they call these in England. I figure there must at least be an equivalent, so insert that word I guess.


	8. Viggo

Chapter 7

* * *

  
  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
Viggo's parked his car outside of Kennedy airport. He hurried inside  
heading towards the information board to see where he should go to  
meet Johnny. However almost the second he got in the door he was  
knocked over by a pair of ski's. The woman holding them over her  
shoulder had turned around without seeing Viggo and hit him square in  
the head.  
  
When Viggo woke up a few minutes later he heard a women asking, "Are  
you alright?"  
  
A group of people were standing over Viggo looking at him with  
concern.  
  
"I'm fine. I am okay. Thanks", Viggo said soothingly.  
  
After convincing everyone that he was fine, Viggo headed towards the  
information boards rubbing his head. However almost as soon as he  
stopped in front of the board he was collided into by a luggage  
trolley.   
  
"Oww! Jesus!", Viggo shouted.  
  
"Oh my God! I am really sorry", apologized a muffled voice.   
  
Viggo looked up to see a gorgeous young man with his hand over his  
mouth in surprise.  
  
Viggo shook his head, "What is happening to me today?"  
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't see you there.", the now clear voice babbled,  
"Are you okay? Are you sure?"  
  
Viggo took in the boys cocoa eyes, lean frame, and terribly pink  
shirt.   
  
"I don't know what is happening.", Viggo stated.  
  
The boy looked really concerned, "I'm just tired, and I've been  
traveling a long way... "  
  
"No, no, no, I'm fine", Viggo said not wanting to worry him.   
  
"Are you? I'm sorry. I am. Are you sure? "  
  
"I’m sure. Don't worry", Viggo said comfortingly, "It's just not my  
lucky-"  
  
Viggo didn't finish his sentence. He'd suddenly gotten light headed  
and fell forward... right into the strangers arms.  
  
"Are you okay?", the boy asked. He was holding Viggo up, bracing his  
shoulders with his hands.  
  
"Day", Viggo finished.  
  
The young man smiled when Viggo straightened himself and stood on his  
own. Viggo's face still had a dazed look on it and his gaze wasn't  
focused so the younger man raised a hand to cup Viggo's cheek. Viggo  
groaned.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?", the brit asked again.  
  
"I'm okay", Viggo said, even before the other man had finished.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Fine", Viggo answered.  
  
The boy stepped back and grabbed his trolley. With a last lingering  
look at Viggo, he walked away.  
  
After a few steps the younger man's stride faltered. He turned around  
and searched the crowd for Viggo. He gave into his nervous habit of  
biting his lip, and nearly moaned with disappointment, he didn't see  
him. However, his eyes lit up when he got an idea. He pushed through  
the crowd with his trolley until he was at the information desk.   
  
"Excuse me, excuse me! Pardon me!", he said desperately.  
  
Once he'd gotten the attention of the clerk he said, "Sorry. Hi, I'd  
like you to page someone for me, please. I don't know his name, all I  
know is that I am supposed to meet him".  
  
"All right sir", the man agreed, "I'll need his flight details".  
  
"No", the boy in pink began, "I'm saying, I'm supposed to meet him,  
but that it's just-- You know... Do you watch a lot of sports on TV?"  
  
"Yes", the man answered warily.  
  
"Like gladiator rough wrestling kind of stuff? Yeah?", he continued at  
the mans nod, pointing at the female clerk, "Right. I think I need to  
speak with your colleague. I'm just not sure that a man who watches a  
lot of violent sports would understand what I'm saying. Nothing  
against you".  
  
"Miranda, would you like to deal with this customer, please?", the man  
said.  
  
The woman nodded, "How can I help you?"  
  
"Hi", the young man said, "Ummm... Have you ever seen a man, you know,  
a complete stranger, and-- and that's the one! That's him!"  
  
"Sir", Miranda began.  
  
"-- It just hits you and you know it--"  
  
"Sir, this is an airport information desk", Miranda stated blandly.  
  
"I know, but--"  
  
"We deal with lost property, and flight arrival times. ", Miranda  
continued.  
  
"I know, I know, I know. You don't understand what this would mean to  
me. Please".  
  
Miranda sighed, "Sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to--"  
  
"Give me that microphone", the male clerk interrupted, " I do this in  
the name of sports-watching, romantically minded men: a much maligned,  
misunderstood minority".   
  
Turning on the microphone he said, "Ladies and gentlemen. This is  
airport information. Would a gentleman wearing a...". He stopped to  
look at the boy whispering at him. "A brown...yes a brown leather  
coat... and a.....white shirt....tee shirt.... and khaki trousers. Please  
report to the information desk now, please.", he finished quickly.  
  
***  
But by then Viggo had found out about the tailwind and was headed back  
to his car. Unfortunately he had parked it in a fire lane and a meter  
maid was currently in the process of writing him a ticket.  
  
"Wait stop!", he called, "That’s my car!"  
  
***  
At the information desk, three people were eyeing the crowd.   
  
"That one?", pointed out Miranda.  
  
"No", the boy shook his head.  
  
"Him?", the male clerk asked.  
  
"No", the boy said sadly looking out the glass door, "Could you just  
try again?", he said to the clerk. Suddenly he spotted Viggo arguing  
with a meter maid.  
  
"Never mind", he said with a smile, pushing his trolley towards the  
door.  
  
***  
  
"Just give me two seconds! Haven't you got any compassion! I've only  
been two seconds!", Viggo yelled.  
  
Viggo soon realized that he wasn't getting out of the ticket and  
angrily went to his car. He sat down and slammed the door before  
starting it up and trying to back out. Viggo was so upset that he  
didn't remember to look behind him and he backed right into another  
car.   
  
"What the Hell!", yelled a voice behind him.   
  
Viggo sighed and got out of his car to deal with the irate man, "Shit,  
are you all right?"  
  
Lot's of arguing ensued and before Viggo knew what was happening about  
thirty people were involved. Eventually Viggo got tired of waiting and  
just left, without managing to exchange information with the man he  
hit, and walked back to his car.  
  
He opened the car door... and found the boy in the pink shirt sitting  
in the drivers seat.   
  
"Hi", the boy said, "Look, you're obviously in no condition to drive,  
and I need the ride into Manhattan, so why don't you get in?"  
  
"You want me to--", Viggo said stupidly.  
  
"Yes", the younger man smiled, " _go around the back_ ".  
  
Viggo stared for a bit before doing as he was told and getting into  
the passenger side of the vehicle.   
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this", the boy whispered.  
  
When Viggo was buckled in the young man started talking again, "Look  
mate, here's the deal: I'm going to drive you into Manhattan, and I'm  
going to take you for an expensive dinner at the", he pulled a card  
out of his pocket, " the Parker Meridian Hotel. Ever heard of it?"  
  
" Of course, it's a very famous hotel.", Viggo answered.  
  
"Oh, good.", the boy replied, "Then we'll eat famous lamb with mint  
sauce".  
  
Viggo smiled, mostly because he didn't know what else to do. Was he  
hallucinating again?  
  
"Oh, I'm Orlando, by the way.", the young man said holding out his  
hand.  
  
"Viggo", Viggo supplied and shook Orlando's warm hand.   
  
"Viggo", Orlando repeated, tasting the name.  
  
"You can drive?", Viggo questioned when Orlando pressed down on the  
gas.  
  
"Yep. Well", the boy said, just as he slammed on the breaks, "Whoops.  
Sorry. There you go. Easy. You all right?"  
  
After a few minutes of driving Orlando looked over to Viggo who had  
his head back against the headrest and his eyes shut.  
  
"You're not okay at all, are you? Huh?", Orlando asked, feeling  
guilty.  
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
"Of course I wasn't all right. I'd just been knocked unconscious, and now a brit who'd never driven a stick shift before was driving my car... on the wrong side of the road."

 

  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
Viggo was lying across the hood of his parked car, rubbing at his  
head.  
  
Orlando came back from a vendor, "I got you some ice", he said  
offering it to Viggo.  
  
"No, no. I'm fine", Viggo insisted.  
  
"Is that better?", Orlando asked, pushing the ice to Viggo's head.  
  
"Oww. Yea. I'm fine.", Viggo said quickly.  
  
Orlando leaned on the hood of the car next to Viggo.  
  
"It was nice to meet you anyway. It was quite an impression you made."  
  
"Oh, right", Viggo said doubtfully.   
  
"Yea, you know", Orlando teased, "falling into my arms".  
  
Viggo looked at his shoes, and Orlando instantly felt bad for  
embarrassing the man.  
  
"So", Orlando changed the subject, " What do you do for a living?"  
  
"I teach art. Painting, actually"  
  
"Oh", Orlando said happily, "so you're an artist!"  
  
"Oh, no, no, no", Viggo exclaimed, "I mostly teach old ladies".  
  
"Ahhh, old ladies", Orlando nodded sagely, "so you're an artist and a  
gigolo".  
  
"Not exactly", Viggo said with a smile.  
  
"To be a teacher, you must be pretty good, huh", Orlando said  
reasonably, "So when was the last time you had an exhibit".  
  
Viggo just shook his head.  
  
"Not for a while huh", the younger man said sympathetically, "What's  
the matter? Aren't you good enough?"  
  
With a long look at Orlando, long enough to make him fidget, Viggo  
said, "Yeah, that's exactly the problem. I'm not good enough".  
  
Orlando gnawed on his lower lip.   
  
"I am so sorry. I'm sorry".  
  
"No, don't worry about it", Viggo said.  
  
"No", Orlando said seriously, "that was really daft of me. I really  
messed that up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's just that  
sometimes when I get nervous, you know, I just say the dumbest  
things".  
  
Viggo looked into Orlando's eyes and smiled in forgiveness, "When I  
get nervous, I never say anything. I just sit there and get uptight."  
  
They got into the car together and drove off to the hotel. This time  
Viggo was at the wheel.  
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
"Great", Viggo said to Ian, "He had known me for about ten minutes and he already had me down as a failed artist stuck in a dead-end job for the rest of my life. I could have told him about the dreams I had, the plans I was making to pack up and leave, the map on my wall covered in all the places I'd go just as soon as I saved up the money. But that was something I told no one. That was my own little secret ".

 

  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
"So this is Manhattan, huh?", Orlando asked.  
  
Viggo nodded before looking at Orlando and answering verbally, "yeah".  
  
"Have you lived here all your life?", the younger man asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah? What's your favorite part?"  
  
"Ummm, my favorite? Well, it's a little corner of Central Park by 79th  
St. and Transverse road. Playing chess, setting up my easel, and just  
enjoying the day".  
  
"Ah. Now that's a locals tip. In London, all the tourists head  
straight for Big Ben or the Tower of London. But the locals- There's  
this perfect spot at the top of Primrose Hill", Orlando explained.  
  
"Primrose Hill?"  
  
"Primrose Hill", Orlando smiled, "the view is beautiful". (1)  
  
"If I ever go, I'll remember", Viggo promised.  
  
"Can I ask you a question?", Orlando (somewhat ironically) asked. When  
Viggo nodded Orlando went on, "If- if you met a complete stranger on  
an airplane, and he offered you an expensive hotel room, would you  
take it?"  
  
Viggo raised an eyebrow, "Probably not".  
  
Orlando looked down and blushed, "Yea. Me neither".   
  
The rest of the drive was filled with a comfortable silence. When they  
finally got to the hotel a valet came and took Viggo's car and a  
bellboy took Orlando's luggage.  
  
"It was nice meeting you", Viggo said.  
  
"You too", Orlando replied quickly.  
  
"Well, have a nice stay", Viggo said awkwardly. After a silence where  
all they did was stare at each other Viggo backed up and headed to get  
his car.  
  
"Wait!", Orlando called, "We made a deal. You drive me into London and  
I take you out for an expensive dinner. I still owe you a dinner!"   
  
"Right", Viggo agreed happily.  
  
***  
  
Once they got up to Orlando's room, the brit handed Viggo the room  
service menu before looking around. It was a nice room, spacious.  
There was a separate living room and bedroom, plus a bathroom. Viggo  
sat down on the sofa. After Viggo had decided what he wanted Orlando  
made the call.  
  
"Hello... Umm, yes. I'd like to order some food. Delivery... I'd like  
to order a steak... medium... and a lamb with that spicy mint sauce on  
the side... and some champagne... yes... thank you... bye".  
  
Orlando hung up and they both laughed.   
  
"I uh- I sometimes catch myself thinking the most awful things, you  
know?", Orlando confided.  
  
"Yea, I know what you mean", Viggo replied.  
  
"So what about you", Orlando queried, "Do you ever think terrible  
things?"  
  
Viggo rolled his neck, "Oh, sometimes I think I should just pack up  
and clear out. Just go".  
  
"Go where?", Orlando asked intrigued.   
  
"I don't know. First flight anywhere. The hell with them all", Viggo  
shrugged.  
  
Orlando nodded and moved closer to Viggo.  
  
"You said 'the hell with them all', who are they?", Orlando asked  
tentatively.   
  
Viggo sighed, "Well, there's my friends".  
  
"Oh, who aren't really your friends at all, right?", Orlando supplied,  
"Forget your birthdays, take you for granted, talk about  
themselves".  
  
"Exactly".  
  
"Who else?", Orlando urged.  
  
Viggo leaned toward Orlando, really warming up to the subject, "The  
person who robbed my apartment three times in the last year".  
  
"He robbed mine too!", Orlando said dryly.  
  
"The people I work for", Viggo continued the list.  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"Oh, they're so... powdered-", Viggo tried to explain.  
  
"And middle aged-" Orlando added with a grin.  
  
"And perfumed-", said Viggo. Now they were practically taking turns,  
like it was a game.  
  
"And lecherous-"   
  
"And so spectacularly fucking untalented. All I want to do is take a  
mirror and hold it up to their grotesque, sagging, surgically adjusted  
faces and say---"  
  
" 'Forget it! Go back to your wife!' ", Orlando finished.  
  
"Exact--", Viggo started. Then realizing what Orlando had said stopped  
mid-word.  
  
They both laughed nervously. Orlando blushed scarlet and ran a hand  
through his hair. To break the tension Orlando looked around the room  
and said, "Jesus, can you believe this place?"  
  
"It's nice", Viggo agreed.  
  
"Oh! Wait!", Orlando said, running to raid the mini-bar. He returned  
to the sofa with two small bottles. He handed one to Viggo saying,  
"Cheers".  
  
Viggo unscrewed the lid with a smile, "Cheers".  
  
Orlando put his on the coffee table while Viggo took a sip that  
emptied half the bottle.   
  
"You know", Orlando began, "all my life, I was told that if I worked  
hard, and stayed out of trouble, my life would be a fairy tale.", he  
laughed bitterly, "When I graduated I got a plaque. It said, 'Most  
likely to succeed'. Do you know where it hangs?"  
  
Viggo shook his head.  
  
"Next to my desk, at a rental car company", the younger man said.  
  
Viggo continued for him, "Where you work for sixty hours a week".  
  
Orlando picked up, "Yeah, for a Neanderthal boss who sticks his arse  
on the copy machine."  
  
Viggo choked on the drink he had taken while Orlando was talking.   
Once he got his breath back Viggo asked, "So what, it all became clear  
up here?", patting his temple.   
  
"Exactly", Orlando stated, looking into Viggo's eyes, "It was like my  
eyes just opened up, you know? Like St. Paul on the road to Damascus."   
  
Viggo nodded as Orlando continued, "Then one night I realized that if  
I wanted to, I could just take off. Who'd miss me?"  
  
Viggo hung his head and whispered, "No one."  
  
"So", Orlando said, "the next morning I picked up my check, which was  
a couple hundred pounds, packed my bags, and the first flight I could  
afford was New York City. So... here I am!"  
  
"First flight anywhere", Viggo said, slightly in awe. He took the last  
chug on his bottle and put it on the table with Orlando's  
  
"Mm-hmm", Orlando agreed, "Just take someone with you. Trust me, it's  
less scary that way."  
  
"But finding the right person--" Viggo wondered aloud, "You'd need  
someone with all the right similarities, yet all the right differences.   
Someone who reads your mind instinctively...".   
  
Orlando handed Viggo his drink, having finally noticed that Viggo was  
done with his own.  
  
"Thanks", Viggo said unscrewing the top, " ...yet covers your  
weaknesses.", he took a sip.  
  
Orlando looked at Viggo and, tilting his head, asked, "Can I ask you  
another question?"  
  
When Viggo nodded his assent, Orlando went on, "Do you believe that  
things happen for a reason?"  
  
Viggo's brow furrowed, "I don't understand".   
  
Orlando leaned in close, "I am really starting to believe that nothing  
happens without a reason, you know? These random things that happen,  
aren't random at all. I think things happen because-", he paused,  
"because they're meant to happen. Like I think I was meant to come to  
New York City. Just something pulling me here. Because someway,  
somehow, there were better things in store for me."  
  
All during this speech Orlando's face and Viggo's had inched closer to  
each other. Now they could each feel the others breath blowing warmth  
onto their faces.  
  
"Like--like what?"  
  
Orlando licked his lips and sighed, "Like-", and moved in so that his  
lips hovered over Viggo's. Just as Viggo thought their lips would  
meet, they were interrupted by a knock.  
  
"Room service!", came the call.  
  
"Oh thank God", Viggo whimpered as Orlando pulled back.   
  
Seeing that the younger man looked confused Viggo managed to pant out,  
"the food."  
  
"The food?", Orlando breathed.  
  
"The food", Viggo repeated, stronger this time. He leaned his forehead  
onto Orlando's, "we ordered food, remember? Mint sauce?"  
  
Orlando chuckled, nuzzling Viggo's cheek, "I remember... Okay, I'll  
umm... I'll go to bathroom and you can- you can get the door".   
  
Orlando moved away and with a last loving gaze, went into the  
bathroom. Viggo leaned back into the sofa and sighed deeply. The  
knocking started again and Viggo forced himself to get up and answer  
it.   
  
***  
In the bathroom Orlando was leaning his back against the door and  
trying to breath normally. He laughed happily and pushed off the door  
before walking over to the mirror. He ran his hands over his hair,  
trying to tame the wild curls.  
  
***  
When Viggo opened the door he was immediately handed a bouquet of  
flowers.  
  
"For Mr. Bloom", the bellboy explained.  
  
"Oh, thanks", Viggo said, staring at the flowers in confusion.  
  
"With the compliments of Mr. Depp", the bellboy clarified.  
  
"Thank you", Viggo repeated, smelling the flowers as he closed the  
door and the bellboy walked away. A few steps back into the room  
Viggo's eyes widened. He rushed to the door and called down the  
hallway, "Wait, wait, wait! What was that name again?"  
  
The bellboy looked up from where he was waiting for the elevator, "Uh,  
Depp, Sir. Johnny Depp. There's a card in the flowers. Oh, and dinner  
will be right with you".  
  
"Thank you", Viggo said as though through a fog. He closed the door  
again and walked slowly back into the room. He laid the flowers on the  
bed and stared at them. Viggo could here the water running in the  
bathroom. He looked back and forth between the flowers and the  
bathroom door for a minute before making his decision. Shaking his  
head, he pulled his jacket on and walked out the door.  
  
***  
After brushing his teeth and washing his face Orlando took a deep  
breath. Draping a fluffy white hotel robe over his shoulders he slid  
out the door with a flourish.   
  
"If they think there's going to be anything left in this place-", he  
started, but broke off when he didn't see Viggo. He walked around the  
rooms looking around. That’s when he noticed the flowers.  
  
"Viggo?", he called with a smile, picking up the flowers and sniffing  
them.   
  
"Viggo? Where...", he began, gently placing the flowers back on the  
bed. He stopped when a card drifted out off the flowers and onto the  
floor.  
  
Orlando bent to pick it up. However, he dropped it almost as soon as  
he read it.  
  
~ _With love, Johnny_ ~  
  
"Oh no. No, no, no, no", he repeated before running into the hallway.  
  
"Viggo! Viggo!", Orlando yelled, but the hallway was empty. He kicked  
the doorframe and went back into his room slamming the door.   
  
Orlando sat on the sofa, feeling numb and blinking back tears.  
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
  
"It was typical", Ian said pacing in front of the couch Viggo sat on, and “It was the most perfect moment of your life-"  
  
"And I froze", Viggo interrupted, "put Johnny first- when I should have thrown away his flowers away and taken Orlando in my arms."  
  
"Yes, but don't you see?", Ian protested, still pacing, "That's what makes you so special. You were loyal to a friend. You put principles first. You took the moral high ground."  
  
"Then how do you explain this?", Viggo asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Right now, he's asleep in my bed."  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) I've never been to London, so you'll have to excuse me if this isn't true, I got it from a website.


	9. Reunion

Chapter 8

* * *

  
  
Ian stopped pacing and turned to Viggo, "In your bed? Well, unless I am very much mistaken--- I've missed something".  
  
Viggo sighed, "You remember the following day, Johnny invited us to lunch?"  
  
"Yeah", Ian nodded.  
  
"It all happened then".

 

  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
"Viggo, help me out here. You understand these things", Johnny  
pleaded, "Describe for Elijah the perfect lover."  
  
Viggo looked up from his sketchpad at the question. He'd been drawing  
Orlando's face without even realizing it.  
  
Elijah burst out laughing, "I'm sorry. Now you're just being sad".  
  
"The perfect lover?", Viggo began peeking down at his sketch, " Well,  
he'd um-- he'd have a light in his eyes..."  
  
"Yes.", Johnny agreed.  
  
"...an infectious, wonderful smile", Viggo continued, thinking of  
Orlando's perfect lips twisting into a grin, "talking to him you told  
him things you'd never told anyone."  
  
"Yes", Johnny said still nodding, "I did. I did that".  
  
"You begin to see things in a way you've never seen them."  
  
"Yes, yes", Johnny responded.  
  
"Leaving him, you knew that somehow things had irreversibly changed,  
and would never be the same again", Viggo concluded, remembering how  
terrible he felt when driving away from the hotel.  
  
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!", Johnny exclaimed, "Exactly, thank you!"  
  
Elijah was giggling softly and shaking his head. He looked at Viggo  
and said, "So he didn't screw him".  
  
Johnny and Elijah starting fighting again, all they ever did was  
fight. Viggo went back to his sketch, trying to capture Orlando's  
essence on the paper. He got distracted as often happened when he was  
working on something he was passionate about.  
  
"You okay?", Johnny asked, his voice pulling Viggo out of the ether.  
  
"Yea, I'm fine", Viggo assured.  
  
"Yeah, are you alright old man? You look a bit pale", Elijah  
questioned.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing", Viggo said still working on his sketch.  
  
Johnny leaned over and put his hand on Viggo's to stop its movement.  
"What's your opinion on all this?"  
  
"My opinion", Viggo said looking into Johnny's eyes, but picturing  
Orlando's, "I was just thinking, the fact that he hasn't called you,  
doesn't necessarily mean he's not interested".  
  
Johnny perked up at that, "You don’t think?"   
  
"No", Viggo said, "Plus, we should consider most people that you meet  
do find you very attractive".  
  
"Not all of them, no", Johnny interrupted.  
  
"I see no reason why this one should be any different.", Viggo  
continued, his heart breaking, " He may have lost your card".  
  
"He may have lost my card", Johnny repeated.  
  
"And", Viggo went on, " he may be walking around New York City right  
now wishing he knew where to find you".  
  
Viggo couldn't squash the hope that Orlando really was wishing that,  
but about him, not Johnny.  
  
"You see", Johnny said with a smug look on his face, "That is  
friendship!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah", Elijah muttered.  
  
"That's the way I see it", Viggo finished.  
  
"I hadn't even thought of the card. Thank you, Viggo", Johnny said,  
"Thank you. I feel much better now."  
  
At that point Viggo stopped paying attention to his friends. He  
couldn't stop his mind from replaying memories from the night before.  
Orlando cupping his cheek. Orlando listening, really listening, to  
what Viggo had to say. Orlando handing him a drink. The two of them  
almost kissing...  
  
".... stay at home"  
  
"... posing parlors.."  
  
"... punch his lights..."  
  
"... you're dead!"  
  
Viggo had had enough of them. He stood up and threw down his  
sketchpad with a loud thump. "Shut up both of you! If you really want  
to hit each other, hit each other. Just get it over and done with.  
Anything but talking about it all the time."  
  
By the time Viggo had finished his diatribe half of the restaurant was  
staring at him. He was embarrassed, but refused to feel guilty about  
the looks on his friends’ faces.  
  
Viggo picked up his jacket and finished with, "It gives me a  
headache".   
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
  
"You were angry", Ian stated from his seat next to Viggo on the sofa.  
  
"I was", Viggo agreed.  
  
"Furious", Ian went on, "You saw Johnny was involved, and loyalty to friends always come first, remember?... What happened next?"

 

  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
After lunch Viggo went to work.   
  
He was teaching his class at the community center when a cell phone  
rang. All of the women in the class dived into their purses to check  
if it was theirs. Eventually, Viggo realized that it was his cell  
phone. He apologized and walked into the corner of the room.  
  
"Hello?", Viggo said.  
  
'Yeah, it's me. I've got him!"  
  
It took Viggo a minute to process what had been said. Elijah? What was  
Elijah calling him for? Didn't he know that Viggo had a class? And the  
last thing he'd said...  
  
"Got who?", Viggo asked, dreading the answer.  
  
"What do you mean, who? HIM! Orlando. Johnny's brit!"  
  
"What do you mean 'got him' ", Viggo said incredulously, not noticing  
that the women in his class had started to murmur with curiosity.  
  
"Eating out of my hand. You know, pupils dilating kind of got him".  
  
"Elijah, tell me, where are you now?", Viggo demanded.   
  
"In the cafe in the park. I can't wait to tell Johnny! I am really  
gonna enjoy this."  
  
"Elijah, listen to me-", Viggo began desperately.  
  
"Look", Elijah interrupted, "I haven't got time for a moral  
discussion, Viggo. I just wanted to tell someone the good news".  
  
Elijah hung up and left Viggo staring at his cell phone.  
  
Viggo was in shock. This couldn't be happening.   
  
"Ladies", he addressed the class, "I can't explain. There's...  
something I have to do, something very important. And if I don't do it  
now, I may never forgive myself".  
  
He shrugged on his jacket and ran out the door. Behind him, the  
murmuring rose to extreme levels.  
  
***  
  
Viggo went to the cafe in Central Park where he, Johnny, and Elijah  
often went to chat. He cornered the proprietor and asked if he had  
seen Elijah, or someone matching his description. The man made a face  
that told Viggo that he had, in fact, met Elijah, and pointed toward a  
path.   
  
Viggo jogged along until he finally caught sight of them. They were  
walking side by side and laughing. He followed them all the way to the  
museum. Viggo thought he had lost them for moment, but then spotted  
them standing together. He hid himself behind a tour group and  
watched.  
  
He heard Elijah giving a lecture on how art museums were nothing but  
pick up joints. Elijah had never respected Viggo's work. However,  
Viggo was happy to notice that Orlando didn't agree and actually  
seemed a bit offended by the idea.  
  
Viggo heard them plan the experiment and followed the tour group to  
keep his cover. He ended up behind Elijah. When Elijah threw up his  
hands in greeting, Viggo growled quietly and turned on his heel. He  
shouldn't have come.  
  
As he was walking by the check station he knocked into someone. When  
Viggo reached out to steady the person, he was startled to hear a  
familiar accent.  
  
"Oh, my God", Orlando said.  
  
Viggo's mouth moved, but no sound came out.  
  
"Oh my God!", Orlando smiled, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was- I", Viggo couldn't get his voice to work.  
  
"Do you have any idea how strange this is, us meeting like this?",  
Orlando exclaimed, the smile on his face blinding.  
  
When his statement was met with silence, Orlando's smile began to  
fade.  
  
"Aren't you glad to see me?", he asked shyly.  
  
"No", Viggo finally managed to say.  
  
Viggo could see the light in the younger man's brown eyes fade. He  
wanted it back.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I am", Viggo corrected himself. There it was.  
  
"You are.", Orlando repeated hopefully. But seeing that Viggo still  
looked angry continued, "No, you're not. What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing", Viggo said lifting his chin, "I was just leaving".  
  
"Me too", Orlando returned.  
  
Viggo started to walk away but Orlando stopped him by calling, "Would  
you help me with my bags?"  
  
Viggo tensed, but turned around and walked back. He scooped up every  
piece of Orlando's luggage and walked out of the museum without a  
word, Orlando trotting after him.  
  
Orlando had to struggle to keep up with Viggo's pace, "You know. I  
could take this silence personally, but after what you told me  
yesterday I'll just assume that you're nervous, and I'll take that as  
a compliment".  
  
Viggo turned around and glared at him, but Orlando continued anyway,  
"I realize I owe you an apology. I should never have accepted that  
hotel room. It was irresponsible. The business with the flowers and  
everything-"  
  
Viggo dropped the bags and turned around, crossing his arms over his  
chest.   
  
Orlando noticed a plaster on one of Viggo's hands and asked softly,  
"What happened to your hand?"  
  
"I", Viggo sighed, "I made an omelet this morning".  
  
Orlando smiled, "Did you know that they say that clumsiness is linked  
to your emotions?"  
  
Viggo picked up the bags, "Oh is that right?", he said tersely.   
  
Orlando bit his bottom lip; "You'll allow me to take that as a second  
compliment?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"In the absence of any conversation, that is", Orlando finished.  
  
Viggo looked at Orlando and smiled, giving in. They started walking  
again, heading toward Viggo's apartment.  
  
***  
  
"This is great", Orlando said as they reached Viggo's apartment (3B),  
"In my flat, I'd have had to walk up sixteen stories. The elevator  
works okay, but it's strictly for drug deals and contract fellatio."  
  
"Umm... follow me", Viggo said, leading Orlando into his small but  
neat apartment. He put Orlando's bags next to the couch, "If you want  
to make yourself comfy, I'll make us some tea".  
  
"Yum", Orlando smiled.   
  
The phone began to ring.   
  
"I'll be right back", Viggo said walking into the kitchen.  
  
Once in the kitchen Viggo picked up the phone and walked over to peak  
out the crack of the door before answering.  
  
"Hello?", he said.  
  
"Viggo, it's me"  
  
"Johnny? Listen, this isn't a good time", Viggo replied nervously.  
  
"You're right", Johnny agreed, "It's a terrible time. I'm thirty-three  
years old, and I feel like a jilted teenager. I've bunkered up on a  
diet of chocolate, afternoon television, and books. Books that I don't  
even understand."  
  
Viggo could hear Orlando moving around in the living room, "Johnny,  
this really isn't--"  
  
"Viggo", Johnny said dramatically, "I hurt in places I never knew  
existed."  
  
Viggo sighed angrily, "Johnny, I said this isn't a good time!"  
  
When Johnny heard the dial tone he nearly dropped his phone in shock.  
  
"Viggo?", he said into the dead line.   
  
Viggo walked back into the living room to see Orlando looking at his  
bookcase.  
  
"These for your art?", Orlando asked holding up an award and gesturing  
to the others still on the shelf.  
  
"Yeah"  
  
"I thought you said you had no talent", Orlando said placing the award  
back on the shelf.  
  
"I don't."  
  
Orlando tipped his head to the side, "Then why does it have your name  
on it?"  
  
"My agent did all the work.", Viggo answered.  
  
"Your agent?"  
  
"Yeah", Viggo explained, "He could really read people.”   
  
Orlando raised his eyebrows, "Come on, you can do that".  
  
"Huh?", Viggo questioned.  
  
"Well", Orlando said, "if someone's telling the truth or if they're  
lying, you can learn to read the signs. And after that you can figure  
out what to say. Like right now you're still mad about something".  
  
"Oh, really", Viggo asked somewhat sharply before yanking off his  
jacket. Orlando followed suit and removed his as well, placing it with  
Viggo's on the back of the couch.  
  
Orlando noticed some sketches scattered on the coffee table, "Are  
those yours?".  
  
Viggo quickly covered them up, afraid that Orlando might notice that  
they were mostly of him.  
  
"I just paid you a compliment", Orlando said slowly, "You could smile  
a little".  
  
"Thank you", Viggo said through a phony smile.  
  
"Whatever it is that's bothering you, just say it", Orlando begged,  
"You've been like this ever since we ran into one another".  
  
"No I haven't", Viggo said taking a hostile step closer to Orlando.  
  
"Then why are you looking at me like that?", Orlando wanted to know.  
  
"Because, I --", Viggo started.  
  
The ringing of the phone interrupted Viggo's reply.   
  
"Because you what?", Orlando pushed.  
  
"Because you... because I... because... I have to answer the phone",  
Viggo said desperately, his voice taking on a hysterical edge.  
  
"Sure", Orlando said weakly.  
  
Viggo scurried back into the kitchen. He picked up the phone and  
barked, "Yes?"  
  
Elijah's voice came over the line, "I give up, you know? I no longer  
understand people".  
  
"Elijah, this isn't a good time".  
  
"Yeah, yeah", Elijah agreed, "It's a fucking terrible time. Well, we  
were at the Met, you know. He was eating out of my hand. All of a  
sudden he just, just like that, he just disappears on his way back to  
Johnny".  
  
"To Johnny", Viggo asked in confusion.  
  
"Yeah. Oh, well, he'd had his heart set on him all along, hadn't he? I  
mean I gave it my best shot, but credit to him. Johnny's got him well  
and truly."  
  
Viggo sighed, "Johnny".  
  
"Yeah", Elijah continued, "Well, he told me himself you know. He met  
Johnny at the airport right?"  
  
Viggo leaned his forehead onto a cabinet morosely.  
  
"He was all", Elijah did a poor imitation of a British accent," 'the  
moment he saw him he knew' ".  
  
Viggo shut his eyes.  
  
Elijah went on oblivious to his friends’ turmoil, "Something about his  
little brown jacket and khaki 'trousers'. I didn't even know Johnny  
owned a pair of khakis".  
  
Viggo's head shot up.  
  
"Viggo?... Viggo?... Oh, don't get--"  
  
Viggo hung up the phone and threw it in the trash. With a look of  
determination he went to talk to Orlando. The young man wasn't in the  
living room so Viggo tried the bedroom. His heart warmed when he saw  
that Orlando had fallen asleep on his bed. He looked so young and  
vulnerable with his eyelashes dark smudges against his cheek. Viggo  
walked up and sat on the edge of the bed causing Orlando to stir.  
  
"Everything okay?", he asked sleepily.  
  
Viggo smiled and folded the comforter over so it covered Orlando,  
"Everything's fine. You just relax".  
  
Orlando nodded sweetly and quickly fell back into a restful slumber.  
After watching him sleep for a few minutes Viggo gave into temptation,  
first tucking an errant curl behind Orlando's ear, then stroking the  
sleeping mans face. With a wistful smile Viggo moved back and pulled  
out a chair that was in the corner of his bedroom. Seated in the  
chair, he soon fell asleep watching Orlando.  
  
***  
Neither Johnny nor Elijah slept well that night. Both men tossed and  
turned trying to figure out where they had gone wrong with Orlando.  
They lay in their respective beds lamenting what could have been, and  
reliving their time with the special young man.  
  
***  
When Viggo woke up the early morning light was filtering through his  
bedroom window. Orlando was still sleeping peacefully on the bed so  
Viggo stood up quietly so as not to wake him.  
  
Once in the living room Viggo cracked his neck trying to remove the  
stiffness that had resulted from him sleeping in a chair. He decided  
that he still owed Orlando that cup of tea and proceeded to set the  
kettle to boil. When he went to a cabinet to get some tea bags he  
noticed his bulletin board. It was full of post-it notes and  
photographs. There were tons of pictures of him, Johnny, and Elijah;  
ranging from when they'd first become friends years ago to more recent  
times.  
  
Guilt began to set it. How would Johnny react to him and Orlando? And  
Elijah? How could he betray his friends like this? Maybe they weren't  
the best friends that he could ask for, but they had never outright  
betrayed him like Viggo himself was about to do. Would they ever be  
able to forgive him? Did it even matter?  
  
Viggo stepped out of his apartment and silently eased the door shut.  
He turned and braced himself on the door before leaning down and  
resting his forehead on it as well. His shoulders were tense and his  
longish dirty blonde hair obscured his troubled features. Viggo stood  
still for a moment before he tapped his head against the door a few  
times in frustration. After releasing a heavy breath Viggo used his  
hands to launch himself away from the door. He turned around; decision  
made, and walked over to the elevator.  
  
When he reached the lobby Viggo got out of the elevator and walked  
purposefully towards the double doors that led to the street. His mind  
was in turmoil. So much so in fact, that he ran right into a postman  
dropping letters into the tenants mailboxes. Letters floated to the  
floor and Viggo knelt to pick them up while apologizing profusely.  
After picking up the letters Viggo stood and stuffed them into the box  
the mailman had been aiming for before Viggo had interrupted.  
  
The mail carrier gave Viggo a last perturbed look before walking away.  
Viggo decided to wait a moment before following, as to not further  
traumatize the postal worker. As he stood there Viggo glanced at the  
floor and noticed a single letter he had neglected to pick up.   
  
~~~End Flashback~~~

 

  
  
"... and that brings us up to date", Viggo finished.  
  
Ian nodded his understanding, "You have a decision to make."  
  
Viggo let out a long sigh, "Yes".  
  
"Lifelong friends on one side, a lover on the other. Perhaps the closest friends you'll ever have. Buddies through thick and thin. What's the problem?" Ian continued, "Bearing in mind that there's no such thing as a difficult decision."  
  
"I'm sorry?", Viggo questioned.  
  
"Well, everyday we make hundreds of thousands of decisions. In a year they run into tens of millions. People get themselves into knots", Ian said, "The truth is, decisions are easy. You know why?"  
  
Viggo shook his head.  
  
"Because every time- every time, we already know the answers", Ian explained.  
  
"You think", Viggo asked skeptically.   
  
"Absolutely", Ian promised, "Trade secret."  
  
"Oh"  
  
"You see", Ian concluded, "You didn't come to see me to make a decision. You came to me because you didn't like the decision that you'd already made".  
  
The alarm on the clock went off.  
  
"Sorry Viggo", Ian said, "Time's up".  
  
Ian tuned off the alarm and motioned for Viggo to get up.  
  
"Thank you. Thank you very much", Viggo gushed as he stepped through the door.  
  
"I feel so good about this", Ian said with a smile.  
  
"Me too", Viggo agreed, "But I am sorry for waking you".  
  
"No", Ian assured, "It was a pleasure. It's just funny. There's a psychiatrist living next door to me, and yet you chose to talk to me, and I'm flattered".  
  
The man shook Viggo's hand, "It's been a pleasure meeting you Viggo".  
  
Viggo's mouth was hanging open in surprise, "So, You're- you're not-- Well... what line of work are you in? Just out of interest."  
  
"Construction", the portly man answered.  
  
"Construction", Viggo repeated dumbstruck.  
  
"You take care now", the construction worker said as he shut the door.  
  
"Thank you.", Viggo said to the closed door.

 


	10. Set Up

Chapter 9

* * *

  
  
The screeching of a teakettle awakened Orlando.  
  
"Viggo?” he called to the empty room.  
  
Once he realized he was alone, Orlando got up and rubbed his eyes groggily. He stood up and walked into the kitchen, taking the kettle off the stove. He wondered where Viggo was but wasn't really worried because if the stove was left on he must be intending to come right back. Plus, Viggo would have to come back to his apartment sooner or later. With a smile Orlando turned off the stove and figured he should finish making the tea so that it would be ready when Viggo returned.  
  
He started searching the cabinets for tea bags. Once he found them and shut the cabinet door he noticed a bulletin board full of photos. After leaning in closer to get a better look, he reeled back in shock.  
  
The pictures were of Viggo, Elijah, and Johnny. Together.   
  
"Oh my God.” he whispered to himself, "What the bloody hell is going on?"  
  
Memories started to flash in Orlando's mind:  
  
~~~  
  
 _Johnny asked, "Is someone meeting you there?"_  
  
 _That made Orlando smile. "No", the younger man said._  
  
 _"Do you know anyone in New York?"_  
  
 _Orlando shook his head._  
 _~~~_  
  
 _"Thanks", he said. Orlando took the bottle and sat down with Elijah._  
  
 _"I am Orlando, by the way"._  
  
 _Elijah's head snapped around and his large blue eyes widened. He_  
 _stared as Orlando took a drink, then burst out laughing, "I know"._  
  
 _~~~_  
  
 _"Can I ask you a question?", Orlando asked. When Viggo nodded Orlando_  
 _went on, "If- if you met a complete stranger on an airplane, and he_  
 _offered you an expensive hotel room, would you take it?"_  
  
 _Viggo raised an eyebrow, "Probably not"._  
  
 _Orlando looked down and blushed, "Yea. Me neither"._   
  
~~~  
  
Orlando shook his head in horror and put his hand over his mouth.  
  
***  
  
When Viggo got back to his apartment he went into the bedroom to wake Orlando. Seeing that Orlando wasn't there he checked the rest of the rooms, but Orlando was gone. Belatedly remembering that he'd left the pot to boil Viggo went into the kitchen only to find that someone had already turned off the stove.  
  
Upon further observation Viggo saw a note taped to his refrigerator.  
He pulled it off and read it.  
  
~Breakfast. Flower Market Cafe (1)~  
  
Viggo was out the door in seconds. On his way out, he stopped to look at the mailboxes. The two boxes next to Ian’s, belonged to a Kiera Knightly, no that definitely wasn’t him; and a Peter Jackson- that had to be him. Viggo promised himself he’d write the man a thank you note or something.   
  
  
***  
The Flower Market Cafe was a busy outdoor cafe. Johnny showed up holding a bouquet of exotic flowers so large he could barely see over them. Perhaps that's why he didn't see Elijah.  
  
Elijah had just been standing there checking his breath with one hand and holding a considerably smaller bouquet of tulips in the other, when Johnny's flowers rammed him from behind.  
  
Johnny started to apologize, but stopped when he realized whom it was  
that he had hit.  
  
"What the--", they both began.  
  
Orlando observed them from the cafe across the street.   
  
They pointed to each other’s flowers in question. Elijah started laughing, but Johnny wasn't as amused.  
  
"Funny", he said sarcastically.   
  
Just then Viggo jogged up tightly holding a few roses in his left hand.  
  
"Viggo?", Elijah questioned.  
  
"Oh, what the Hell is going on?", Johnny asked annoyed, "What the hell is he doing here?".  
  
Elijah turned to Johnny, "Would you please just go away?".  
  
Johnny continued to interrogate Viggo, "What are you doing here? I see-"  
  
"We've been set up!", Elijah interrupted laughing.   
  
"Very funny, very funny", Johnny said laughing hollowly.   
  
Viggo turned his head to the sky and closed his eyes. His board. The pictures. Orlando had seen the pictures.  
  
"Did you do this", Elijah asked through his laughter.  
  
"Could you both fuck off.", Johnny said before Viggo could respond, "And Elijah, what are you on? Cause I'd really like some"  
  
Elijah was laughing so hard that he couldn't stand up straight.  
  
"Completely hilarious", Johnny continued, "Now will you both please leave".  
  
Just then Orlando came over from across the street, carrying all his bags. When they spotted him, all three men quieted and held out their flowers.  
  
Orlando put his hands on his hips angrily, "This is pretty funny, huh?", he forced a laugh, "Ha! Hilarious. Listen; before I take off, I just need to know. Does this happen all the time?"  
  
"No,no,no", Johnny and Elijah both assured.  
  
Orlando continued as if no one had spoken, "These American male clubs, where some blokes pick someone up and they make him fall in love, and then they rip the rug out from underneath his feet.- Does this happen all the time, or have I just been really unlucky?".  
  
"Oh, no. I- I can explain", Elijah began.  
  
"Elijah, shut up!", Orlando raved, "What could you possibly explain to me? See I am a little bit older than six and the only people interested in you are six-year-old girls. Sorry".  
  
Johnny laughed and said, "Orlando. Listen to me--"  
  
"Johnny", Orlando said reigning in his control, "Uh-uh. Please. You're a sweet... little man, but a hundred bucks says that you took down those books and you put them right back up without reading a single one of them. Am I right?".  
  
"My books?", Johnny said.  
  
"Yeah".  
  
"Actually I did do that", Johnny said.  
  
"Yep. You see", Orlando started, his voice breaking, "maybe it's me. I mean I thought this would be different, you know? But if you think this is going to get me down, you're wrong. Because I am tough, you know? I've made a decision. I've changed my life; something none of you have had the courage to do, none of you".  
  
He looked right at Viggo, " Are you just going to stand there? Don't you have anything to say to me?"  
  
Viggo just stared at Orlando with watery eyes.  
  
"Yeah, well. I can explain", Elijah began.  
  
"No! Ignore him", Johnny insisted, "I don't know who he is-"  
  
"I actually don't understand why any-", Elijah tried.  
  
But Orlando wasn't listening to their chatter and just talked over them, "Don't freeze on me", he implored, "Don't freeze on me now, please. Please don't".  
  
Elijah turned to Johnny and pushed him making him drop his flowers, "You are so arrogant!"  
  
Johnny pushed back, "What the hell are you doing"  
  
Johnny and Elijah were so wrapped up in themselves that they didn't even notice Orlando turn and start to walk away. Viggo did.  
  
"Wait", he whispered watching Orlando's retreating form.  
  
"Wait", he said louder this time, moving forward to follow Orlando. However, when he came between Elijah and Johnny he got caught up in their fight and pushed back with a shout of, "Stay out of it!"  
  
Johnny went to help Viggo up off the ground, "Viggo, sorry man. This is between us", he said once Viggo was upright again.  
  
"I wasn't-", Viggo started to explain, but was interrupted when Elijah pushed Johnny onto the ground in his place.  
  
Johnny popped back up, "Don't push me!", he shouted, shoving Elijah, "You see? You see? Hurts don’t it!"  
  
A few seconds into the scuffle Elijah pulled back holding his arm, "Ow! My arm!"  
  
The tussled some more and Elijah managed to kick Johnny's shin. After that it was a free for all, fists flying everywhere. Viggo tried seeing over them, but it was too late. Orlando had already left.   
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) This is a made up place.


	11. Iceland?

Chapter 10

* * *

  
  
Viggo took a cab from the Flower Market Cafe to a travel agency. He went up to the ticket counter and waited on line.   
  
"How can I help you, sir?" asked the desk clerk.  
  
Viggo took a deep breath, "First flight anywhere for 99 dollars".  
  
"I beg your pardon?".  
  
"You heard what I said", Viggo stated.  
  
"Do you have a date in mind for your return", the clerk asked by rote.   
  
"No return", Viggo said.   
  
"I beg your pardon?", the clerk asked again, brought up short by the pronouncement.  
  
"I am not coming back", Viggo restated.  
  
"One way. Thank you", the clerk said, typing into his computer.   
  
"Because", Viggo began, "there comes a point when you find the one person-- the one thing that ever mattered--", he banged his hands onto the desk, "Damn it!"  
  
The clerk jumped at the noise, but continued to type despite the rising volume of Viggo's voice.  
  
"And instead of holding it tight and recognizing it-- for the priceless most beautiful, precious gift that it is-- INSTEAD OF HAVING THE COURAGE!-- you do what you've done all your life. All your life. You freeze. FREEZE!”, he roared, punctuating the last by slapping his head.  
  
"So", he went on more calmly, “you see, whatever name you pull out of that computer, things will be a whole lot better there than they are here".  
  
"Reykjavik"  
  
"I'm sorry?”, Viggo responded.  
  
"Capital of Iceland, sir.", the clerk continued, "Some attractive features, I'm told. Four hundred miles of iceberg, longhaired sheep, and twenty hours of darkness a day. Your flight leaves at 2200 hours".  
  
"Reykjavik?", Viggo queried cautiously.  
  
"First flight anywhere for 99 dollars,” the clerk said simply.  
  
Viggo nodded, "Thank you", he said taking his ticket and walking away.  
  
The clerk looked over at the seating area, "Have you made a decision yet, sir?"  
  
Orlando got up and walked to the desk with a smile.

  
***  
  
Johnny and Elijah sat at a bar. Both men had bruises covering their faces. There were two bottles of beer in front of them and Elijah was smoking one of his clove cigarettes.   
  
"Deny to me", Elijah said, "Deny that it felt good."  
  
Johnny paused in thought before smiling, "It felt good".  
  
They clicked their beer bottles and laughed.   
  
"It felt fucking magnificent", Elijah exclaimed, "I feel like I've become a member of some historic male club".  
  
Johnny took a chug of his beer and said, "This is how women feel when they give birth."  
  
Elijah chuckled, "Yeah, yeah. Except for the hands probably".  
  
"Yeah", Johnny agreed, "Why don't they tell you it hurts your hands? I never knew that".  
  
"I still can't work out what Viggo was doing there", Elijah said wonderingly.  
  
"Yeah", Johnny said with a wistful smile, "Standing there with those flowers. He probably got them for his kitchen table".  
  
"Can you imagine if he was there to meet Orlando”, Elijah questioned.  
  
They both chuckled haltingly.

  
  
***  
While Viggo was waiting on line to check in he was approached by a pretty young woman in an airline uniform. Her nametag identified her as 'Liv'.  
  
"Excuse me, sir", she said with a wide smile on her face, "Congratulations. You're the 100,000th passenger to fly on this airline, this route, this year".  
  
"Right", Viggo replied.  
  
"And to mark the occasion, the airline would like to fly you first class.", Liv finished.  
  
"First class?", Viggo questioned.  
  
"First class", Liv repeated, her face full of joy. With that she grabbed Viggo's arm and pulled him through onto the plane and sat him right in a first class seat, "Here we go sir, First class".  
  
"Are you sure this is all right", Viggo asked for about the thirtieth time.  
  
"Yes, yes", she promised yet again, patting his shoulder comfortingly.  
  
Viggo relaxed into his seat when she walked away. He was doing it. He'd made enough mistakes lately, so this had better be the right decision. Either way, Viggo was going to follow Orlando's example, he owed the boy that at least.  
  
Liv stood in the back of the first class section with a group of excited stewardesses, all of them watching Viggo with huge grins on their faces.  
  
Suddenly hands closed over Viggo's eyes and a familiar voice said, "Guess who?".  
  
Viggo covered the hands with his own and the voice continued, "Iceland, huh?"  
  
Viggo bolted out of his seat and turned around to find Orlando standing in the seat behind him. They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Viggo grabbed Orlando and kissed him, a fiery passionate kiss that had the rest of the first class passengers whispering. When they finally pulled apart, flushed and out of breath, Viggo grabbed Orlando's hand and led him into the seat next to him. Orlando sat with his head on Viggo's shoulder and they cuddled as the plane took off.

  
***  
It was dark in the airplane, and quiet as most of the passengers were sleeping. Orlando was leaning his head on Viggo's shoulder, snuggling. Viggo felt Orlando's breath ticking his neck as he laughed at a story about Elijah.  
  
"London and Amsterdam? That's not even--", Orlando said incredulously.  
  
Viggo laughed back, "--Forty minutes, I know. He didn't recommend it."  
  
"Well, we have all the time in the world", Orlando said, pulling the airplane cover over them and moving in to kiss Viggo again. 

  
  
**THE END**

 


End file.
